


Darling, so it goes, Some things Are meant to be

by whosophia



Series: one shots/short stories [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Minor Anya/Raven Reyes, mentions of - Freeform, raven reyes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosophia/pseuds/whosophia
Summary: Soulmates AUyou know the drill: everybody has tattooed on their forearm the first few words their soulmate will speak to them.it's all fun and exciting until you get stuck with "how can I help you?" aka one of the top-ten most-used-sentences ever





	Darling, so it goes, Some things Are meant to be

**Author's Note:**

> hi everybody, it's been a while. i am randomly back with this one-shot work because i've been hit with an idea and couldn't shake it out.  
> enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> whosophia.tumblr.com

_How can I help you?_  
Lexa still cannot believe this is what the universe had come up with, for her. Her soulmate could have tried a little harder, being fully honest. Something more creative, unique. Something less...frustratingly common.   


Anya's tattoo, for example, read _Are you from Venus?_ and, up to this day, they haven't let Raven live it down yet. Non that she deserves it, anyway. The girl had picked the impossibly lamest pick-up line in the history of pick-up lines. Point is, _Are you from Venus? Because you're out of this world_ is a sentence that, luckily, nobody will ever hear, directed to them, in their life.   
_How can I help you?_ though. Lexa feels like she can count on her two hands the amount of days she's gone without hearing such a question, since she had turned nineteen, eight years ago, officially old enough for those words to matter.

It's not the worst, Lexa knows that. She's heard of people meeting their soulmates way past their forties; people who had spent countless days riding the same train as their soulmates without even glancing towards the other, let alone talk to each other, until one fateful day. Hell, her very own friend Murphy had discovered that his soulmate had all along been his sister's friend Emori who he had seen hanging out around their house so many times yet he had never managed to properly meet. Ever. Until two years later when she had been in need of a phone charger and Emori didn't own an iPhone.   
Sure thing, her tattoo is not as bad as Gustus' _Thank you_ but she's right behind him.

Every single time was a punch in the gut.  
Lexa would brace herself, waiting for the realization to hit the person in front of her. Waiting for a pair of eyes to light up, lips curling in a bright, full smile.  
Every single time that didn't happen, Lexa felt her heart sunk a little. It was painful and so unfair.  
Grocery shopping, ordering a simple coffee, dining out. People never realize how friendly and polite workers and other people in general can be.  
If she didn't know any better, she would fear that a so-called soulmate will never show up, to be honest. The universe has rules, though, and soulmates always come into their partner's life, even for the briefest period.  
So she waits.

 

"At least there's one thing you can be certain of," Anya says, glancing from across the small table, "you don't have to worry about men's words."  
"If only it was that easy..." Lexa retorts, sipping at her latte.  
Anya softens, then, "Lexa, I love you and I understand how difficult and frustrating this has been for you; believe me, I do," she says, "but it'll happen when the time will come. Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do about it."  
"I know, I know-"  
"She will come, Lexa," Anya states, with such a determination that Lexa's worries soothe, for a brief moment.  
She lets a small smile appear on her lips and whispers, "thank you, Anya."

 

Once Anya had left, work demanding her presence, as usual, Lexa had decided to walk around the area to clear her head and shake the negative thoughts out.  
That's how she ended up in front of a bookstore she had never seen before, not far from the cafe she just had lunch at.   
Stepping inside, Lexa takes the whole space in. Average sized, big windows letting lots of sunlight in and row after row full of volumes with chairs of all kinds scattered around. It is a beautiful shop and it doesn't take long for the young woman to lose herself in that ocean of pages.

"How can I help you?" a cheerful voice exclaims, out of the blue.  
" _Oh, shit!_ " Lexa yelps, startled, dropping the book she had been looking at for the past few minutes.  
She is too surprised by the unexpected interruption (and, honestly, the other girl's blue eyes and her blonde, pink-tipped hair and the smile -god, her smile- would have made Lexa blank out regardless of the moment) to focus on the girl's words and, regardless, the woman in front of her seems not being going through such a life changing experience as meeting your potential soulmates would be so, yes, Lexa doesn't even think about _it_.

Lexa knows she's blushing, she can feel it and, somehow, manages to collect herself before the situation can turn awkward.  
"I'm sorry," the blonde offers, apologetically, as she kneels down to pick the book up, "I didn't mean to scare you."  
This stranger's voice is low, hoarse almost.  
"Uh," Lexa replies, struggling to find words because this woman is, pure and simple, stunning, "no, it's alright. I should have paid more attention to the surroundings."  
"That's a great work, truth to be told," the girl affirms, nodding to the volume now back in Lexa's hands, "I get it," she adds, followed by a small, knowing smile.  
Finally remembering how the world of adults works, Lexa straightens herself up as she offers a hand to the mesmerizing stranger, "I'm Lexa."  
"Clarke," the other replies, taking the outstretched hand, "I noticed you standing there for a while and was wondering if you needed any help in finding something suiting your needs."

Considering is a Wednesday early afternoon, the bookstore is mostly empty, apart from a handful of customers quietly browsing through the immense variety of options. A few members of the staff are there, too, organizing the volumes or simply offering help if required, nothing out of the ordinary.   
It's just a plain, boring, slow Wednesday.  
Except it isn't.

Clarke and Lexa spend the most part of the rest of the afternoon chatting about, well, books first, of course, but mostly not. The conversation easily flows from their careers to the the colleges they had attended to a heated debate on whether Ravenclaw or Slytherin is the better House and yes, they're still arguing about that last one.  
Technically, Clarke is on shift but the load of work is not much and the whole staff can easily complete their tasks while interacting with each other.  
There's something unsettling about how _easy_ it is; how comfortable and simple talking to Clarke feels.  
The woman is gorgeous, there's no denying that, but she's also smart, witty and funny which, honestly, Lexa wasn't ready for.   
She also doesn't let herself go _there_. Clarke hasn't mentioned her tattoo, hidden under long sleeves, nor even glanced down to her own forearm (or Lexa's) for a second so she just ignores the feeling of her sinking heart.

Later in the day, it's time for Lexa to leave because she still has a couple of articles to work on which are due by the weekend and Indra might be most supportive and inspiring boss but she sure does not allow slacking.  
"Bye, Griffin." Lexa smiles, glancing one last time at the beautiful woman, making sure to engrave her images in her brain.  
"I hope to see you around, Lexa. " Clarke shots back, a half-smile curving her lips up. 

Lexa tries not to think about _it_. She does.  
And fails.

 

Thursday sees her walking towards the bookstore, once again. Yesterday, among many other things, Lexa had discovered that Clarke works at the store most days but Sundays and Tuesdays and spends most lunch breaks in the small backroom with her colleagues.  
The girls is surprised, at first, to see her there. Nonetheless, a big, warm smile blossoms on her lips and Lexa feels her heart rate speeding up.  
"Hello, Clarke," Lexa says, trying to keep her voice under control, "I wanted to thank you for the recommendation you gave me yesterday. It's a lovely story, so far; quite intriguing."  
"I'm so glad to hear that," Clarke's grin only grows bigger, "I found myself going through it, all over again, more times than i can count."  
Suddenly remembering the reason why she's shown up unannounced, in the first place, Lexa takes a short breathe before speaking again, "I'm actually here because I was wondering if you'd like to have lunch together, today," she can feels the tip of her ears turning red, "my treat. As a _thank you_ offer for helping me out, yesterday."

Lexa knows it's a big step, She's aware of how random the whole thing is but Clarke is one of the most interesting people she has ever met and, being fully honest here, cannot bring herself to give it up just yet, in whatever capacity the girl will (hopefully) decide to be in her life.  
"Only if you have time, that is," Lexa rushes the words out, "and, uh, if you'd like to join me, of course," after a brief pause she decides to add, along with a challenging smirk, "I've been working on my list of reasons as of why Ravenclaw is, undoubtedly, the better House."  
Clarke cannot really contain an amused grin from twitching lips, then, "you're so on, Woods."

It only takes about fifteen minutes for Clarke's morning shift to end. Lexa is so engulfed in a travel guidebook that she doesn't notice the blonde standing right beside her until warm fingers slightly tap on the back of her hand, claiming attention.  
"All good," Clarke informs her, "I told the guys I'm heading out."  
"Cool!" Lexa smiles back, "how long do you have?"  
"About forty-five minutes."  
Acknowledging the girl's words with a small nod, Lexa decides to tease even further, "plenty of time to convince you of the supreme superiority of us, Ravenclaws."  
"Every single lunch break from now to my fiftieth birthday would never be enough to accomplish that," Clarke retorts, playfully shoving the brunette.  
Not wanting to waste any extra minute, Lexa quickly makes her way towards the exit, Clarke right behind.

  

And so, that's how it starts.  
Lunch ~~dates~~ breaks spent in company of each other become a fair usual event, after that. And morning coffees, afternoon chats on slow days, ten rushed minutes between running errands.  
Lexa becomes such a regular presence that most employees become acquainted with the girl to the point that none of them is surprised to see her leaning against a bookshelf, volume in hand as she waits for Clarke and certainly nobody questions her reasons when the tall, slender figure enters the shop on a almost daily basis, bright smile painted on that charming face of hers, often bearing a tray of coffee cups for the staff.

Lexa, still, doesn't think about _it_.  
Clarke's arms are always covered, as per official uniform of the store which, if she truly looks deep down inside herself, Lexa isn't sure whether she's grateful for or not. Because not seeing the tattoo means that she can keep ignoring the feelings and curiosity slowly growing stronger with every new day.   
Because Clarke has a soulmate waiting, somewhere out there and so does Lexa herself which means catching feelings for the gorgeous, funny blonde will only bring an amount of crap neither of them would want to deal with.

 _There's a whole ocean between said and done,_ though.  
Therefore Lexa finds herself looking forward to their increasing meet ups because Clarke Griffin is a wonderful _friend_ she always has a great time with and nothing more.   
They do not discuss their respective love lives whether because there isn't much to tell, really, or because, deep down, they both know it's a tricky topic which would lead places neither wants to venture into. Lexa still doesn't see Clarke's tattoo and vice versa; they don't mention soulmates at all after making clear, once, that neither had met theirs, yet.  
They also do not make any effort to concretely cross that thin, blurry line which stands between them and-- _whatever_ might be. Lexa and Clarke do not meet outside of their breaks; they also do not interact apart from brief texts to inform the other of change of plans and meeting hours.  
It works, and so it goes.

Clarke buys Lexa lunch and the brunette shows up with the woman's favorite pecan pie cupcakes, in return.  
Blue eyes never fail to light up, amused, when the journalist shares her opinions on the latest book Clarke had recommended just a couple of days before.  
Lexa's heart grows bigger with every new soft half smile directed at her, and her only. She's also probably, completely, utterly falling in love with the tiny mole just above the blonde's upper lip.  
Somehow, they build a routine of sort which neither fully acknowledges and yet dearly grows fond of.   
And if Clarke notices the way kind, green eyes roam along her body, stopping an instant too long on her lips, specifically, she doesn't show. Or how the brunette's heart stops altogether whenever Clarke's fingers gently grazes any patch of skin available. And she surely doesn't offer any hint to whether she's aware of how Lexa memorizes everything she mentions, even the smallest of details and randomly brings it up days later.

 

It's exactly thirty-two days after that first, fateful Wednesday that Lexa is sitting at the coffee shop not far from the bookstore, the one she had started going to fairly often since Clarke had come around.  
Hair up in a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose, Lexa is completely lost in her own bubble, eyes skimming through the lines on the screen in front of her.   
It's a gloomy, chilly Tuesday which means Lexa has all the time in the world to carefully go through her newest piece before submitting it to Indra for review and approval. She has the time and the caffeine which appears to be a powerful combination.

"Lexa," a soft, too familiar voice greets, startling the focused brunette.  
Surprised, Lexa raises her gaze from the screen, a smile already blossoming on her full lips, "Clarke, hi."  
"Hello," the blue-eyed woman replies, taking a seat on the other side of the small table.  
"I wasn't expecting to see you today," Lexa says, "have I forgotten we had decided to meet up?"  
Clarke seems nervous, for some reason. Her eyes are gentle as ever but there's something in them, today, that Lexa cannot quite pinpoint. On top of that, her hands are slightly shaking as the girl fidgets with a napkin laying on the table.  
"There's something I need to talk to you about, Lexa," Clarke whispers and Lexa's world shakes with a few simple words.  
"Okay."  
"I need you to let me finish, before you say anything," she adds, "please."  
Lexa's heart is thumping so hard the girl fears it will cut a hole in her chest. Yet, she manages to let out a chocked O _kay._

"The first time I saw you, I stared at you for a fucking embarrassing length of time," Clarke starts, voice low and uncertain, "you were just standing there, in all of your glory, completely absorbed in a book and I couldn't function anymore."  
Lexa thinks she might start hyperventilating and possibly faint, right on the spot.  
"I wasn't even planning on talking to you, really," the blonde admits, bashfully honest, "I would have been content with just having enjoyed your presence for as brief as the universe would have allowed me, before going on with my shift."  
"Clar-" the brunette tries but Clarke's hand is on top of hers, squeezing slightly to ask for patience. Which she cannot deny.  
"I wanted to ignore you, I truly did," she continues, eyes always locked on greener ones, "but then you really looked like you could have used a hand, there. So, I changed my mind," the girl cannot restrain the soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Then, it happens.  
Clarke barely moves, painfully slowly pulling the sleeve of her light sweater up.  
"Lexa," her voice almost pleads, "I tried to ignore it. I tried to convince myself that it couldn't be happening. Not to me," Clarke's eyes seem darker, now- wetter, "I saw what love causes; I watched my mom losing her soulmate."  
"Oh Clarke," Lexa whispers, her warm hand squeezing harder.  
"I tried to ignore my feelings because I saw what could happen and how is love worth such pain?" the woman continues, desperate, "but _then-"_  
Lexa slowly moves in her seat, her other hand reaching forward to grasp at Clarke's shaking one. Reassuring and comforting yet not breaking her vow of patience.  
"Then _you_ happened, Lexa," Clarke states and it's with such confidence and the smallest, most meaningful of smiles the she fully, finally, pulls the sleeve up.  
And, Lexa is sure now that she is probably about to combust because real as the stars up in the sky, there it is.  
_Oh, shit!_

"I need you to tell me, Lexa, that _this_ means something," Clarke says, the confidence in her voice slightly faltering.  
And what can Lexa do, if not giving her an amused look, fingers tracing each letter with such a reverence and softness.  
"Do you have any idea of what I had to go through, in my life?" Lexa's words could have been mistaken for harsh if only her eyes weren't looking at Clarke with the most loving, gentle of gazes, a mocking tone somewhere in there, too,   
" _How can I help you?"_ Lexa recites, finally pronouncing out loud the words she has been mentally repeating over and over again throughout her life, pulling up her sleeve as well, to reveal the few marked words there, "you really couldn't come up with anything better or, like, less fucking common?"  
And if Lexa's eyes weren't growing bigger, with each passing instant, along with the most breathtaking, beautiful smile, Clarke might have been worried she had went too far.  
"Honestly, Clarke," the dark haired woman teases further, "why not something along the lines of _you dropped your Michael Kors leather wallet_ or literally anything else more specific," she sighs.  
"Well, excuse me, Mrs _Oh, Shit!"_ Clarke playfully shots back, "at least I haven't gotten you in trouble with your third grade teacher for cursing out loud in the middle of recess." 

"Please, tell me you're not mad," Clarke pleads, truly concerned.  
"Clarke," Lexa interrupts the swirling mess going through the blonde's mind, "I haven't questioned you either even though I did recognized the first words you ever said to me," the woman continues, gentle as ever and yet in a completely new way, "god knows how I wished it was you, though."

Naturally, as if unable to hold back any longer, hands still interlaced on top of the table, their lips met halfway in the most perfect, life changing, possibly a little uncordinated at first, kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> i know i have a couple of works that i still have yet to finish and that haven't been updated in a while but, truth to be told, lots has been happening in my life ever since and i just... well, i honestly haven't abandoned those stories, i do want to finish them and give us all the deserved happy endings but i cannot say when that will be. i'm sorry.  
> though, i really hope you enjoyed this one-shot, guys. let me know in the comments or feel free to visit my tumblr @ whosophia.tumblr.com  
> cheers


End file.
